


Knit Together

by Erstwhileknitter



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Grandma Nott, Knitting, Nein plus one AU, Nott Knits, Nott is a good mom, Pregnancy, Schmoop, The rest of the Nein are mentioned but not enough to justify tagging them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 17:24:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17349431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erstwhileknitter/pseuds/Erstwhileknitter
Summary: When Nott finds out Caleb is pregnant, she wants to do something special. Luckily, Nott knits. Companion piece to A House Becomes a Home. Part of what I'm calling the Nein Plus One AU.





	Knit Together

It had taken Nott a long time to get used to having a home. She’d grown up in caves and abandoned mines; goblin clans tended to make their homes in deep, dark places. They liked the secrecy and protection. It offered very little in the way of comfort, though. When she’d escaped that life, she’d discovered that humans were the opposite. They had luxuries like beds and windows and fireplaces. Yet even as she enjoyed the same environment that humans did, she knew she wasn’t truly a part of it. She hid her true nature under porcelain masks and spells, knowing that one wrong move could land her in a jail cell.  
If adventuring with the Mighty Nein had given her a taste of acceptance, it was nothing compared to when they finally got their own place. The House of Nein, as they’d nicknamed it, was the one place she didn’t have to worry about spells running out or masks slipping. She could come and go as she pleased and there was always a friendly face waiting for her. There weren’t suspicious glares or side eyes from curious strangers. She could just…relax.  
The problem was that Nott wasn’t good at relaxing. She’d gotten so used to running that the feeling of stillness was foreign. The Itch didn’t like being bored. She’d spent almost as much time in the house as out of it, pacing around the front yard to keep from stealing everyone’s buttons. In the end, it was Jester who came up with the solution. She’d returned from the market one day with skeins of dyed wool and a pair of very shiny knitting needles.  
“I learned this from my mom a long time ago,” Jester had explained eagerly, casting on stitches. “I like drawing better, but with knitting you can make people pretty things!”  
Nott had watched the needles click and the yarn slide across them. Just observing it scratched The Itch. There was an appeal to making something warm and soft using something smooth and shiny. Jester showed her the basic stitches and within a week, Nott had a scarf. It was lumpy and uneven, more of a trapezoid than a rectangle, but it was hers and that was what mattered.  
It didn’t take long for her to move beyond scarves. Knitting wasn’t just an occupation for long days at home, it was something she could take with her on their adventures, working on it while keeping watch or riding in the cart. She bought patterns from the markets they passed, eventually presenting Jester with a pair of bright pink socks as a thank you. By the time winter came around, she’d made everyone in the party-including Frumpkin-a hat. Everyone-except for Frumpkin-wore them gratefully.  
Around the time Nott decided to start her first sweater, she woke up one morning to the sound of someone vomiting. Instantly alert, she jumped out of bed and ran to go find the source. She was alarmed to realize it sounded like Caleb. She rushed into his and Mollumauk’s room to offer some help. She’d never quite let go of her protective fondness for the wizard. Even knowing Molly would be right by his side didn’t quite calm her.  
Sure enough, Molly was sitting on the floor beside Caleb, rubbing his back and murmuring words of comfort. For his part, Caleb had about finished retching into the chamber pot. Nott joined them, kneeling by Caleb to squeeze his shoulder. It was late in the season to contract an illness and he didn’t feel like he had a fever. Nott was perplexed.  
“Are you alright? What’s wrong?!” She asked urgently.  
Caleb drew in a breath and set the chamber pot down. He patted her hand. “I’m fine, Nott. It’s nothing.”  
“You only say that when it _is_ something!” Nott protested, glancing at Molly for confirmation. Molly didn’t meet her gaze. He leaned down and whispered something in Caleb’s ear. Caleb nodded.  
“I should tell her.” He said. Molly brushed a hair from his face.  
“I think you’d better.”  
“Tell me what?” Nott demanded, her mind already running through all the worst possibilities. Caleb was smiling when he turned to her.  
“We were planning on waiting to announce this but ah, the cat’s out of the bag. I’m expecting.”  
Nott blinked. Expecting? Expecting to die? To come down with the flu? What did he-.  
Oh.  
Molly grinned wryly. “You’re going to be a grandma, Nott!”  
Nott laughed, a combination of relief and joy filling her to the brim. She threw her arms around Caleb.  
“That’s great! I’m so happy for you two!” Caleb returned the hug.  
“ _Danke. _Don’t tell the others yet, ok?”__  
Nott solemnly promised she wouldn’t. But the news buzzed in the back of her mind for the rest of the week. It was almost as bad as The Itch and certainly as urgent. This was a big deal. She wanted to do something to celebrate it. And there was only one cure for such restlessness.  
Nott thought long and hard about what to make. There were plenty of patterns for soft toys and tiny sweaters out there, but she didn’t want something that would eventually be outgrown. She considered everything from a pillow to thirty years’ worth of socks. All were eventually dismissed. She wanted to make something special. Something that connected this new family member to the rest of them.  
It was then that she remembered when she first saw Caleb. She’d told the others that when she’d met him, he was a scared little boy in the corner of a jail cell. She hadn’t mentioned that when she saw him, she’d wanted to wrap him in comfort and protect him from the whole world. For someone who’d frown used to a cold, uncaring world and learned to reply in kind, it’d been a complete about face. She knew she’d feel the same way about the baby, that tiny combination of two people she’d come to love.  
Nott knew what she’d make.  
She used the first needles Jester had given her, their silver tint just as pleasing as ever. She started with wool as blue as the sky, with small hints of green spun in it. Within days, Jester’s square was complete. Appropriately enough, Fjord’s was soon to follow. The color scheme with his was reversed, green with touches of blue. It fit well, though she was loath to be reminded of the sea. She made Beau’s out of a navy blue with silver, planning to put it next to Yasha’s with its black to grey gradient. By the time she’d finished them, the rest of the Nein had been informed about the new party member.  
She wasn’t the only one preparing. She’d caught Fjord whittling something that looked suspiciously like a doll’s head and Caduceus searching out ingredients for a tea blend that eased morning sickness. She knew for a fact Molly had an embroidery project in progress that would one day adorn the nursery wall. It warmed her heart to know that they cared for her boy as much as she did.  
She’d originally considered making Caleb’s square out of an earthy brown, something pretty yet muted. But as the pregnancy progressed, she saw a new side to him. When they sat next to each other in the living room, she’d noticed him running a hand over his belly, smiling to himself. He was happier than she’d ever seen him. Glowing, even. In the end, she chose instead to do his square in a reddish orange similar to Frumpkin’s fur color. She did Mollymauk’s square in lavender blended with a deeper purple, but striped it in alternating knit and purl rows. She wanted it to be as unique as he was.  
The hardest wool to find had been for Caduceus’s section. She’d scoured the market stalls for something appropriate, finally selecting a pastel green tinged with pink. It was, quite appropriately, soothing to work with. When the blanket still didn’t look big enough, she decided to expand it to the rest of their social circle. Shakaste found a place in a square of brown and grey and was followed by Caliana’s whorl of white and deep forest green. Bryce had their own square as well, buttercup yellow. Even Pumat (all of them, really) ended up with one in blue and gold. Before Nott knew it, there was only one left. Her own.  
She chose a green that was darker than Fjord’s but lighter than Caliana’s. It seemed the most appropriate color, but when she saw it against her own skin, sadness tugged at her heart. She cast on the stitches but couldn’t bring herself to go further. Something was missing. Mind itching, she grabbed her knitting bag, pulling all the other squares out. She sifted through them, the colors tumbling through her hands like water. All the other blanket sections were multicolored. Hers wasn’t.  
It made sense, considering that they were all very colorful people. There was more to them than could be seen at a glance. Maybe that was the problem; people were always sizing her up at first sight. Hell, she’d made babies cry by smiling at them. She wanted the new little one to be able to know who she really was, right from the start. She wanted to show them that there was more to her than green skin and pointy teeth.  
Nott dumped her knitting bag out, needles clattering and balls of scrap yarn rolling every which way. There had to be something. Something that could fill in the missing piece. What did she want to tell them?  
_“He’s my boy.” ___  
It had been a long time since that conversation. She doubted most of them remembered it. But Nott would never forget. It was the first time she’d been that honest with…anyone, really. It had been said in anger, but that didn’t stop it from being true. Things had changed a lot since then. They’d gained new friends, suffered loss, even witnessed rebirth. They’d become a family. They weren’t just disparate pieces anymore. That was what she wanted the pass on. She wanted the baby to know just how very much they were loved.  
Nott’s eyes fell on a ball of yarn by her knee. It was different from the other balls. The color was deep and rich, like that of spun gold. She’d purchased it on impulse a long time ago, vowing to save it for something special.  
All at once, she knew what was missing.  
This final square was knitted in secret. She worked on it in the privacy of her room or by candlelight when everyone else was in bed. She called on several instructional books and even a yarn seller or two to ensure it came out right. Eventually, after hours of focus and more than a few ripped out rows, it was complete. Once the final stitch was bound off and the ends weaved in, she spent the day sewing the squares together. They made a three by four rectangle that would hopefully keep the little one warm for perpetuity. Nott held the blanket for a while after it was finished, savoring the feeling of completeness. Then she went to find Caleb.  
He was sitting in the living room, a book perched on his belly. He’d been spending a lot of time reading lately, not all of it magic related. It figured he’d try to prepare the best way he knew how. She cleared her throat and he started as though coming out of a trance.  
“Yes?”  
Nott gulped, trying to swallow her nerves. She held up the blanket.  
“I made this for you. Well, for both of you. I hope you like it.”  
Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He set his book down to gather the item into his arms. She watched nervously as he held it up, letting it unfold into the air. Her heart jumped as he got to the square on the bottom right corner. It was green, yes, but knitted in smooth purl stitches. Written in those stitches in a brilliant gold were the words, “For my grandchild.”  
The letters were a bit crooked and the corner drooped a bit. It was the first time she’d ever knit with two strands of yarn and despite her best efforts, it showed. Caleb was silent for a while, pulling the blanket close and letting it drape over him. He rubbed the material against his cheek, eyes distant. When he finally looked back to her, he was close to tears. Nott panicked. She knew the pregnancy had been drawing out his emotions but she hadn’t expected this. Did he hate it?  
“Thank you, Nott,” Caleb said thickly. “Thank you, _Liebling _. It’s perfect.”  
And as Nott wrapped her arms around him, she knew she’d made the right choice.__


End file.
